


More To This?

by Professor SS19 (ProfessorSS19)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29561574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorSS19/pseuds/Professor%20SS19
Summary: Poppy Pomfrey has an intruder in her store cupboard - maybe she should have been surprised find that it is Headmaster Snape, but perhaps she is not.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	More To This?

**More To This?**

In a school that had become exceptionally silent in the last four months, any out of place noises could no longer be attributed to mischief, and Poppy Pomfrey felt that was one of the greatest shames, as the war turned in favour of the darkness.Now, any noise had to be treated with suspicion - because, after all, if they had been more suspicious originally, then perhaps none of them would be in this situation.If they had stopped to think and to question, perhaps the old yet brilliant Headmaster would still be alive.

Instead, she now treated _everything_ with suspicion, and if that meant she was living in a case of constant vigilance, and if that meant she was permanently exhausted, and if that meant she spent time chasing sleep, then so be it.Nothing could be taken at face value.

They had thought that Severus Snape was loyal.They were all convinced of it.They all had their reasons, they all had their experiences, they all had their judgements - and they had, the entire staff body, considered him to be loyal, if not sarcastic and brash, at times, when he wanted to be.Never had any of them suspected, for even the merest second, that he would turn his back on the one who championed him so very incessantly, and turn to murder, of all things.But then, none of them had looked closely enough at Malfoy junior, either.None of them had seen the signs, or if they had, they had not acted quickly enough, they had not put the pieces together, and she knew that their hindsight was sharpening their hatred of the Severus who now walked the halls as Headmaster.

Poppy had deliberately not interacted with Severus since he had returned to Hogwarts.Why would she?Why would any of them?Minerva had gone out of her way to do so, to challenge him, and his empty and neutral response had hurt her so very greatly, and she had gained no closure on the loss of her dearest friend.Poppy was aware that Minerva was tearing herself apart; Severus was someone she believed in, because Minerva believed in whatever Albus believed in, and to have seen the look of sheer…nothing…on Severus’ face, when she had faced him…none of them really knew how to help her.None of them knew what to say, none of them knew what to do.None of them knew how to function in the face of this betrayal, except that they would become ever more determined to protect the students.To undermine the Death-Eaters where they could, but never enough to risk removal from the school.She treated the same illnesses and accidents as usual, and recorded them as before, but there was no checking of these records, as there had used to be.No one was interested in the welfare of the students, or staff, and she supposed this was the way of the world when a school was no longer there for the students.

She would therefore investigate the noise, from the cupboard in the deserted Hospital Wing, with her typical curiosity.There was no reason for there to be any noise from the cupboard.There were the strictest of curfews, and no student would risk breaking them for fear of retribution from the Carrows - or worse, the now customary hauling in front of the impassive Headmaster Snape.There was no reason why anyone would be legitimately accessing her stores, and there were fewer still who knew how to undo the protection spells.

When she opened the door and exposed the intruder to the light, she thought she should have been surprised, but actually, she found herself not to be - because, with all of the above information considered, there was no one that it could be except Severus.And, she supposed, she was also not surprised at his condition - though she wished she had been.She only needed to see the one smear of blood on the shelf where vials were now displaced and ruffled, to know that this was not an easy visit.Severus, for his part, withdrew slightly toward the other wall, and to anyone else it would look like he was perhaps cowering, but she knew him to be hiding - and if it was from her, it was not him, himself.

“Headmaster.”She greeted, with a tone as empty as she thought his eyes would be.

“Madame Pomfrey.”He intoned, still not looking toward her, and as a result, most of him was still cast into shadow.“I apologise for the disarray in your cupboard.It was darker than I was anticipating.”

This could be the kind of conversation they used to have - except, of course, it was not.Severus had stolen from her stores before, yes, and the last time it had been - it had been for Albus, actually, as she recalled - and there was usually some humour, some evidence of trust, but here, between them both, the trust was gone.

But Poppy Pomfrey was a Healer.That was her role, that was her calling, and she could see that the man before her was injured.She took no pleasure in it, but she took no sadness either.She was matter of fact.This was a man who was inured, and therefore, the man needed treating.“You are injured.”

“It is nothing.I was - I was looking for something else.” 

“You are still injured.I can see the blood on the shelf, where you slipped. Allow me to treat you.”

He straightened slightly at this, and she saw his face move in the smallest shift of directions toward her, as if he was viewing her with -

 _Suspicion_.

“It is my job, Headmaster.I presume you do not wish this to be visible, tomorrow.”Their conversations always seemed to take place at night, always seemed to take place when Severus was injured, but any other time, every other time, there had always been a third party, someone stood, hovering, concerned, guilty, and if she was missing his presence before, she missed it most keenly now.“Please.”She said, after a moment, considering the coupling of it with his first name, but that seemed a lack of formality that neither of them could afford.

He moved his hands, one badly bloodstained, in a gesture that suggested acquiescence, and she moved to light the candles more brightly, instead of just from her wand, so she could seem him properly. It appeared to be a superficial beating, something she had dealt with before, though superficiality did not reduce the pain or potential for longer term damage.“Sit against the wall.”She knew he would not like to be seen like this, and suddenly she wanted to know more, she wanted to know who and what for and why, because this did not make sense to her.The Carrows tended to cower in Severus’ presence, as if his deed on the Astronomy Tower had caused an elevation in position.Why was he in such a mess now?But she would not ask, because to ask, would open the chink, and the chink she could no longer allow. 

He did sit against the wall, as she asked.She knelt by him, and he said nothing while she efficiently and effortlessly cleaned the excess blood and applied a rudimentary salve to the scratches and where bruises were already starting to deepen in colour.He just sat, and stared beyond her, in that way that Severus always did, as if he was looking _to_.She thought, once more, about the third figure in their past interactions.Albus would stand, arms folded, watching closely, and there would seem to be some secret and silent conversation between them, as if Albus was considering not letting Severus go again, and Severus was reassuring him that this was the right decision - or perhaps it had been vice versa - she would never know, because they never spoke.It was all in the expressions on their faces, the knowledge of knowing each other so well, the master and the apprentice, the father and the son, the guardian and the ward -

He winced, and her reverie was broken in the same moment as his, as his eyes reflexively moved to where it had hurt.She was going to apologise, and then she remembered that this was Albus Dumbledore’s murderer, and maybe he did not deserve her sympathy, or empathy, or anything else.“If you were not looking for healing potions,” She said after a moment, and those black eyes with the blacker lines beneath, flickered to her face. “What were you looking for?”

He paused, as if weighing up the risk of responding.“Sleeping Draughts.”

Again, she had not been expecting this.“Can you not brew them yourself?”She was surprised, this was a simple potion, one that took very little in terms of effort or ingredients.He shook his head, “My other commitments mean I have little time, and therefore my supply is diminished.I thought of here, first.” 

Their gazes were still holding each other’s.She had looked into Severus’ eyes since he had been a young student, her increasingly unconvinced by his arguments for why he returned to Hogwarts with more bruises than those who played Quidditch, and him increasing more vehemently.She had seen him when he had blearily recovered consciousness in her Hospital Wing, the worst time that night after the Triwizard Tournament ended in death and destruction, and she had seen how he had, without question, without hesitation, looked for Albus.A natural instinct.She had seen him through many things, alive with humour when they had all decided to try to rid Lockhart, and then more recently Umbridge from the school.She had seen him unsettled, and confident, and hurt.She had thought she had known him, better than others, because she had seen these most intimate moments.And now when she looked, she saw the bruising, and she saw the gauntness of that pale skin, and she saw the lack of sleep, and she saw the tiredness, and she saw the emptiness that Minerva had so angrily discussed - but still - something - something remained -

_Suspicion._

For her. 

If they had not considered the signs accurately before - she went to speak, but he seemed to realise something about her thought processes, and she remembered that he had always been very good at Legilimency.“I should go.Thank you for your treatment.”He was going to stand, and she acted.She reached out, and she closed her fingers around her wrist, feeling her fingertips more than connect as they did so.“Wait.I can provide the Sleeping Draughts.I have a surplus.”That would have been a suggestion for them both to move, but neither of them did.He watched her fingers like he had never seen such a gesture before, and she felt the thudding of his pulse against her skin, and -

“Severus.I have a question.”

He seemed to tighten everything - every muscle tensed - and his back straightened - and he went to shake his head -

“A yes or no question, that is all.”

If he was going to reply, it was as if he thought better of it.If he was going to reply, it may have been harsh, she knew.It may have been angry, a lashing out.It may have been empty, as he had been to Minerva.She wanted to ask what they all wanted to know, but also, she knew that he might not be honest with her, and she yet, she so desperately wanted to know, and if she wondered if, after he did not say anything, maybe he wanted someone to ask - but she did not quite know the - “You have my vow as a Healer that I will not repeat your answer to anyone.But I have to ask this.”

“Then ask.”There was defeat, but it seemed to be relieved defeat.

“Is there more to this?”That was all she asked. 

It was not the question he was expecting, that was clear from the way his face reacted in surprise, before it was quickly covered.She would never know which question he was expecting, and when she would reflect in the future, and all the truths were exposed, she wondered if perhaps she should have asked something more direct, but she surmised that he would never have answered, he would have lied, or refused.There was nothing else she could have done, except asked that - because it was vague enough that he could interpret it however he wanted, although they both knew exactly what it meant.

She was merciful, in her kindness.She did not wait for his response in such close proximity.She stood, while he reacted, and she reached for all the Sleeping Draughts she had, and she placed them in his lap, even as he still considered.She did not repeat the question, she did not press for an answer, she did not pause even for a moment to think about leaving.If he was going to answer, then Severus Snape did not need asking twice.

“Yes.”

She nodded, just once, at his reply.“You should rest.”He nodded, and stood, and echoed his gratitude once more, and left, with a noticeable slowness to his gait, and the potions clutched tightly in his hands.And she tidied the cupboard, and she went to bed, and she went to sleep, because that was the time of night it was, and there was work to be done tomorrow.There was no need for a moment of momentous realisation, or sudden dawning of knowledge, or indeed any reaction at all.

The reason for this was simple.

She had suspected it, all along.


End file.
